Written by GanoRinehart   

At my sentencing hearing I had the State contracted forensic psychologist speak for me and comment on my crime. He recommended to the court probation and therapy. Instead I got 15 years. There is a real disconnect between science/good sense and the hysteria driven minimum sentencing. I am a professional writer and social worker. I journaled daily during my time in prison. Here is one of my essays.-
Gano Rinehart
NOT SO DIFFERENT FROM ABU GHRAIB



Two of the seven soldiers accused of abusing Iraqi prisoners of war in Baghdad's Abu Ghraib prison were, prior to enlistment, employed as prison guards. This news produced an "ah-ha" among the inmates of my compound and served to confirm my suspicions.
I had commented to other inmates that the soldiers who were implicated in the abuse, through the alarming photographs, were acting like Florida Department of Corrections officers. We laughed and wondered if Floridians would be as shocked and scandalized to learn their wayward sons, daughters, fathers and husbands were being similarly treated within the 143 correctional facilities in Florida.
I must stop and qualify this statement. Fortunately, a majority of the F. D. C. personnel with whom I've had contact carry out their duties with dignity and professionalism. They are the keepers of the peace in an environment that is of necessity very structured and, once you get used to it, tolerably livable. However, too many of these state employees are adamant in their actions and articulation that their job description requires they make inmates miserable. They have internalized the foundational philosophy of our judicial system. Punishment, not restoration for those of convicted and incarcerated for crime.
They are quick, relentless and demeaning as they carry out society's mandate. In ways ranging from trivial to ungodly they have honed their skills in attacking the dignity of all humanity they find draped in prison garb.
I have not personally seen the same level of abuse as depicted in recent news from Iraq because I have kept out of trouble. I did not go to the "box" or "go to jail", as they say, until my last six months when I was unable to urinate into a cup as a sergeant stared at my "delivery system." And so, I was subjected to internal punishment for refusing a direct order. However, by that time Baker had flipped over to a re-entry camp and I was released from "the box" early, without too much trauma, so I would be free to attend re-entry classes.
I have never been to a "close management" camp, where prisoners, due to certain offenses, are restricted. CM facilities contain many 8-foot by 12-foot cells, to which inmates are restricted for all but one hour a week--recreation in the outside dog box--and three weekly showers while in handcuffs. CM is basically a lower, hotter level of the institutional, tax-funded hell know as prison.
I have, however, seen and endured what amounts to psychological torment. While being processed into the prison system at one of the four reception centers, a short, mean-faced female officer with a butch hair cut approached me. "Inmate," she growled and with profane speech more intense and pointed than I've heard from any inmate, shouted, "Get your hands out of your pockets. You wanna play with your pathetic, tiny dick? Go find yourself a boy to do it with. Do you hear me?" She stood there growling with the finger of her gloved hand in my face.
What could I do? I was over 50 at the time. Never been in trouble in all my life. I thought, if she treats me this way in front of other inmates and officers, what would she do in private? I'd never felt so alone, helpless or in greater danger. All I could offer was to stutter, "Y-y-yes ma'am," as I freed my hands from my pockets, in the 40-degree weather and hung them limply at my sides.
This aggressive speech became part of the aural wallpaper that surrounded me. It was part of the psychological pressure that would remold my world. One night, during master count at the reception center, I did witness one inmate pay the price for talking during master count. He was called out to the laundry room in the dorm where he was left alone with large, muscular male officers. The dorm sat in difficult, antsy silence for about 45-minutes, waiting for count to clear so we could relax. Right as count cleared, the inmate was released from the laundry room. He moved haltingly through the dorm, other inmates silently making a path for him as he limped, held his abdomen in pain and averted his eyes from ours as he fought to hold back tears. He never spoke of the incident and was soon moved to another dorm. All the visual indicators told me he had been beaten, but the fearful psychological indicators made me suspicious of other trauma, as well.
I had a civilian boss in one of my prison job assignments who had been a corrections officer. He often entertained his inmate crew with stories of how he abused inmates while he was on the goon-squad (his term) working CM. As I would listen to his stories, I would shudder as I realized how in another place, another time, he would have enjoyed beating me.
His rationalization was, they shouldn't have come to prison;" or "I was just doing my job." And, surprisingly, I found the inmates agreeing with him. More likely than not, a convict would back up the boss' justifications with, "That ##@**&## was asking for it." It is strange and sad to note how often the inmates will identify with and come to the defense of their tormentors.
Once my boss laughed about an incident in which he beat a shackled inmate. Through tears of laughter he recalled, "That stupid inmate pissed blood for a week." When I asked how medical personnel could wink at such abuse, he indicated that if they wanted to keep their jobs, they'd better not talk about it. He then added, "If you can't beat the hell out of a prisoner without sending him to the hospital then you don't know your job."
The stories above may seem lightweight when compared to more graphic tales told by the actual victims or by inmate orderlies who work CM. I feel constrained to stick to stories I observed or believed to be well-founded.
I feel a sincere sympathy for the soldiers who will be scapegoats in the Iraqi POW abuse scandal. They did not choose their assignment. They were appointed to a soul-destroying job. They did not have the moral stamina or bedrock virtues to withstand the pressure. They were on the hammer end of a gross imbalance of power and their job description indicated punishment and subjugation for their charges. This is what happens when justice is stripped of the component of mercy.
Whey your vocation is molded by a philosophy and vision statement that speaks of punishment and revenge, how is the poorly educated, poorly trained and perhaps morally insufficient guard to find the clear boundary between punishment and abuse?
I have sympathy for the men and women who will be blamed and punished for the abuse of the Iraqi prisoners. America is incensed and outraged over being outed by the unseemly images that tell the world America is not really one of the good guys. Somehow, we all know that our true character as a culture is revealed by the way we treat our prisoners.
When Jesus said, "I was in prison and you visited me, " he made clear his wish for humane treatment of prisoners. Perhaps we, as a nation, should hear him say, "I was in Abu Ghraib, and you abused and sexually humiliated me; just as you did at home."
Perhaps we should look at those photographs as we do a mirror and clean up our act. Perhaps re-habilitation, not punishment, should be the underlying moral philosophy that directs our work in prison in both military and civilian applications.
Gano Rinehart

From: They are All Life Sentences; - Amazon//Kindle/Create Space